


empty cartridges

by tchouli



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Declarations Of Love, F/F, First Kiss, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Love, M/M, Near Death, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 12:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18800251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tchouli/pseuds/tchouli
Summary: This was suppose to be a story about John and Sameen





	1. Shaw

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be a story about John and Sameen

The silence was deafening after the cacophony of guns firing and cartridges being ejected making pinging noises as they ricocheted off the walls and floors and dull slaps when bodies were hit. Blood pooled in puddles on the floor along with the spent shells and downed agents. _It was always amazing how many people Samaritan was willing to sacrifice for just the two of them. We aren’t the Mayhem Twins for nothing_ Shaw thought. 

Smirking at the thought, Shaw remembered the fight. She and Reese, guns blazing. Taking down all who got in the way of their goal. Anyone watching would have sworn they were seeing a single person, they were that similar. They moved in unison like in a well-choreographed dance. _I guess that was what we were doing_ she thought, _dancing with Samaritan’s agents_. A lethal, bloody dance. That only the most skilled could perform. And Reese was the best dance partner she had ever had. 

She was propped against a wall with at least two wounds she had accounted for, maybe more. There was a graze along her temple and a gunshot wound in her arm. The injury to her arm looked through and through, the bullet had made a clean exit. She ripped off part of her shirt and wrapped it around her arm, taking one end between her teeth and with the other end in her hand, pulled and knotted the cloth, tightening it as much as she could to help stop the bleeding. Taking inventory of the rest of her body, it looked like she might have a gash in her right leg. _Ok, that’s minor_ Shaw thought already scanning the building again. She needed to find Reese her brother in arms, and she admitted to herself, the brother she never had. It was hard for her to feel close to people, she wasn’t made that way. But John and, of course, Root were the exceptions, for different reasons. 

Shaw couldn’t see John from her present location. What she could see was bodies littered throughout the room in various states and lots and lots of blood. The moaning and crying was getting on her nerves and she wanted to yell at all of them to **“Shut the Hell Up!”** But she didn’t. John was her priority. She tried to stand and realized the gash in her leg was worse than she thought when she stumbled a bit. Using the wall for support, she managed to get up. Standing gave her a better vantage point, yet she still couldn’t see John. Searching, Shaw recalled the last time she saw him was by the door in the back wall.

Hobbling a bit, Shaw started making her way across the room. _Samaritan really didn’t value human life at all_ she thought, as she stepped over another and yet another body. _That must be some great Kool-Aid Samaritan offers to have this many people sign up to be shot at. Either that, or they all have death wishes_ , she decided. She made it to the door, no Reese. Although, she could tell based on the body count that he had been here.

Opening the door she found John, his eyes closed and his face ashen, collapsed against a water cooler in the hallway. Water was spilling on the floor from where a bullet had punctured the plastic container. He had two visible gunshot wounds, one in the shoulder and another in either the stomach or chest. But, he was covered in so much blood it was hard to tell which. Shaw knew John could withstand a lot; she had seen it with her own eyes, but even she felt a twinge of fear when she saw how bad he looked. Running to him she felt for a pulse. And…felt nothing. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she tried again. _Yes_ , she could feel it now, faint but there it was. 

“John …John… can you hear me? John!” Shaw cried

She shook him slightly and his eyes slowly opened. 

“What took you so long Shaw” he whispered.

“You know I had to clean up what you missed,” she retorted with a tight smile.

“This time it’s pretty bad” John said as he opened his suit coat. Shaw could see that what she thought had been a single wound was in reality two, both centered in the abdomen. _Ohhh man_ she thought, _stomach wounds were never good_.

“Come on now Reese, you know you can’t let me show you up.” Shaw said this with her usual wry tone but inside she was scared. Scared that she was going to lose someone she cared about. Scared that she was scared. 

Then her medical training kicked in. “Let’s get some pressure on the ones we can. Stop some of this blood flow.” She said briskly

She helped John get out of his coat and wadded it up to use on the wounds. “Hold that there,” she told him, placing the coat over his midsection and his hand on top. “Put as much pressure as you can.” Shaw directed him as she started checking him for other injuries, relieved to find that the other damage appeared superficial. But, the stomach ones had her worried. 

“Can you stand?” she asked him

“I don’t think so.” John answered, his voice so quiet that Shaw had to lean in to hear.

“Then we will wait here together.” She replied

Shaw slid to the ground beside John to help hold the coat in place and to put pressure on the wounds. She was coming down from the adrenaline rush of the fight. She splashed some water on her face to help her stay alert and on John’s for good measure to keep him cool. His skin had felt feverish when she had checked him over. He didn’t react when the water hit his face and that worried her. John’s eyes were shut again and his breathing was shallow. Shaw closed hers as well as she waited and tried not to think of her world without John. When Cole was killed, it had affected her more than she thought possible and she wasn’t half as close to him as Reese. _Being a sociopath wasn’t all it was cracked up to be when you cared for someone_ Shaw told herself and hoped the others were on their way. 

That was how Harold and Root found them when they arrived, the dripping water the one sound in the stillness, Shaw and Reese side by side. Their eyes closed, blood caked on their clothes and bodies, surrounded by empty cartridges.


	2. Harold

The car careened through the night as they sped down the empty streets narrowly missing parked cars, mailboxes, and garbage cans to reach John and Sameen’s last known location. Root was driving. Harold was holding on and praying they weren’t too late. They had lost contact with the other two about 20 minutes earlier. He and Root feared the worse. They knew the battle was over when they could no longer hear gunfire in their comms; but, they didn’t know who survived. Harold could hear Root still trying to reach Sameen as she drove.

“Sweetie…Sameen… are you there?.. Sam are you ok? ...What’s happening? Speak to me” Root was frantic.

Harold had given up trying to reach John long before that last communication with Sameen. He would never forget her words … _"I’m ok but I can’t find John. I don’t know if he made it. There are a lot of bodies here and a lot of blood”_ Harold, had almost broken down then. He was pretty sure John was dead. But, he didn’t want to think about that or he would be of no use to anyone at all. 

Not since Nathan and Grace had he felt so close to someone. But it was more than that, he not only loved and trusted John as a true friend like he had with Nathan; but he was in love with John as he had once been with Grace, only it was different this time. Yes, he still loved Grace, and always would, but time and lies and circumstances …and John had changed the nature of those feelings. He swallowed down a sob that was about to engulf him and focused on his laptop to see how much longer until they reached their destination.

As if she could read his mind Root said, “Harry, less than five minutes.”

“Root…” Harold started to say something more but stopped.

“Yes Harry?” she asked

“Please hurry and I don’t care how you do it. Get me to him!” Harold said, a bit frantic himself now.

In response, Root jammed her foot on the accelerator and their wild ride continued

Harold saw their destination ahead, a warehouse with an office in front. He was a bit surprised the police weren’t there yet, but the area was pretty isolated and looked to be all industrial. Except for maybe a night watchman, he doubted anyone had heard anything. 

“Root, you have your guns? Just in case?” he asked.

“Always, and extras. Do you want?” She replied seriously with none of her usual teasing tone in the question. All of them knew how he felt about guns and violence in general. But sometimes there was a need, and this was one of those times. She leaned over, opened the glovebox and took out a handgun and gave it to him. 

“Here Harry, this Glock is loaded and ready to go. You have 15 rounds. Make them count!” She said with so much cold ferocity that Harold shuddered and thought again how grateful he was that she was on their side. 

Harold looked at the gun with trepidation about to say “no thank you” then he thought of all the times both John and Sameen had gone to battle at his direction without hesitation. He looked at Root and quietly said “thank you” and placed the gun in his coat pocket.

At that moment, Root cut the wheel and swung the car around to the left and slammed on the brakes. “We’re here” she said.

The outer door to the office was open. Root jumped out of the car and raced around to his side. He was ready. Drawing their guns, Root leading the way, they entered the office, and saw the first body. Moving through to the warehouse, they checked each room but there was no sign of John or Sameen.

Harold stopped in shock when he walked into the warehouse and even Root was taken aback. It looked like a war zone. Nothing had prepared them for what they were seeing - blood and bodies. _Just how many men did Samaritan send_? Harold thought and then his heart dropped. There was no way John and Sameen were alive. Again as if she read his mind, Root grabbed his hand in reassurance “Have faith Harry” was all she said. 

They started picking their way through the warehouse looking for their friends. They hadn’t found either of them by the time they made it to the far door. He hoped this was a sign that they had survived. But, that hope was dashed as soon as he and Root pushed open the door and found John and Sameen side by side, eyes closed covered in blood. 

Harold didn’t register Root screaming “ **NOOOOOOO, Sam!** ” or see her run to Sameen’s side. All he saw was John, so still…so pale… so much blood. He knew it was going to be bad but knowing and seeing are two different things. He felt like he couldn’t move or breathe. He just stood there, the sobs he had held back before broke free and tears started to fall. “ _No! No! No!_ ” He wailed in his head or maybe out loud; he didn’t know. He was too late again. He closed his eyes and cried. He was so overwhelmed that it took Root shaking him, hard, to get him back to the present. 

“Harry! Harry! They are alive!” she was shouting, as she continued to shake him

He opened his eyes, “Wh-What???” he said in disbelief 

He looked over and saw that Sameen was checking on John, whose eyes were still closed. 

Root was still talking to him, “Harry they were waiting for us. But Harry…”, and he could see the concern and sympathy in her eyes, “John is hurt bad, we have to get him to a doctor. Call Dr. Tillman. Sameen and I will look for a chair, anything that we can use to get him to the car.” 

Harold made the call then went to John’s side. He knelt and took Sameen’s place and began putting pressure on John’s wounds. 

“Sameen”, he said as they were swapping places, “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are alive.” His voice caught on the next words, “And I thank you for watching over John. 

Sameen gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand then went off with Root leaving Harold with John. Harold took one hand and let some of the water from the water cooler John was leaning against drip into it. He bathed John’s face and smoothed back his hair. He was reaching for more water when John’s eyes opened.

John’s voice rasped, “Harold you’re here. I’m glad. I need to tell you something.”

“No!” Harold said. “It can wait. You need to save your energy.” 

“It can’t wait,” John replied as he started coughing and bits of blood stained his lips. “I don’t think I have much time and you need to know how much you mean to me. I would have been dead long before now without you Harold…I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you but there never seemed to be a good time. I don’t expect you to do or say anything but I needed you to know.” 

John closed his eyes exhausted from the effort of speaking.

Harold, watched him, tears streaming down his cheeks as he listened. “John,” he said and his voice broke a bit, “I love you too.” Wiping the tears from his cheeks and blowing out his breath to get himself under control, Harold continued more firmly “But you are not going anywhere. I have already called Dr. Tillman she is waiting for us.” Harold didn’t know if John heard him or not but John opened his eyes again and looked at Harold and smiled. With that smile, Harold felt some of the worry that had tightened around his heart loosen and he took John’s face in his hands, leaned in and kissed him.

Root and Shaw found them that way when they returned with a chair they had acquired from one of the offices. Luck had been with them, the chair they found was both sturdy enough to hold John and had wheels. Rolling the chair to Harold, they stopped.

“Is he…” Shaw was afraid to say the words. Inside she was twisted with anger and something else that she didn’t want to examine. It was the same way she had felt in every simulation that Samaritan put her through when she had to choose between Root and herself. 

“He is still alive,” Harold said “but barely. Let’s get him in the chair. We need to hurry!”

Between the three of them they managed to get John in the chair. Pushing and pulling they made their way to the car stopping only to move what they couldn’t go around or to reposition John more securely in the chair when he started to slide. They didn’t hear the skittering sounds left in their wake as they kicked the last remains of the battle with Samaritan to the side. So intent on their goal, none of them saw the empty cartridges.


	3. Root

“Harry less than five minutes,” Root said as she continued to drive through the dark streets like a mad woman. Indeed, she may well go mad, she thought if they didn’t find Sameen and the big lug soon. She had known it was a trap even before the Machine had warned them; but even so they couldn’t take the chance. Their mission was to get what was in the warehouse or they had to stop Samaritan from doing so, even if it meant they had to destroy everything.

She had tried to raise Sameen on her comm the entire drive with no success and she was about to crawl out of her skin with worry. She knew Harold felt the same; she could hear it in his voice when he had told her to please hurry. 

Root knew, as much as Harold pretended otherwise, that he felt for John what she felt for Sameen. If she lost Sameen, really lost her not like before, or Harold lost John, it would be devastating and would destroy each of their worlds and possibly their sanity. In many ways she and Harold were very similar. Both brilliant; but, not very good when it came to interacting with others. It was nothing short of miraculous that both of them had found another person who understood them, who took them as they were, and who was always there for them. She would be damned if she didn’t do everything she could to bring them home. 

Root admitted that when she first met John she didn’t like him, dismissed him even, and the feeling was mutual. She understood his point of view. After all, she had kidnapped and tortured the person he was closest to, someone he loved. For Root, she saw him as just Harold’s pet, all muscle no brain. And, she had been proven wrong time and time again. John’s loyalty, while foremost to Harold, was unwavering to the mission and to the team. She had seen that first hand when Sameen had been taken. John had been as worried and obsessed as she had been, helping her exhaust every means to find Sameen. From then on, Root had looked at him with new eyes, a friends eyes, ones that recognized that he cared for Sameen as much as she did. And, for that, she would always be grateful. She would always have his back. 

Finally the warehouse was in sight. Root accelerated and was turning into the drive when Harold asked, “Root, you have your guns? Just in case?”

“Always, and extras. Do you want?” She had responded not expecting Harold, whose aversion to all guns and violence was no secret, to say yes. But sometimes there was a need, and this was one of those times. With that thought, she leaned over, opened the glovebox and took out a handgun and gave it to him. 

“Here Harry,” she said, “This Glock is loaded and ready to go. You have 15 rounds. Make them count!” 

She heard his quiet “thank you” as she cut the wheel and swung the car around to the left and slammed on the brakes. “We’re here” she said jumping out of the car almost before it was fully stopped and ran to Harold’s side. With their guns drawn, she led the way.   
The outer door was wide open and they entered with caution as they stepped over the first body. She couldn’t decide if she was happy or more worried when each room they checked was empty. No one was there. With no sign of Sameen or John, Root and Harold headed for the warehouse.

Root felt her breath catch and her mouth form a small circle of surprise when she stepped into the warehouse. Unknowingly echoing Harold’s own thought she wondered “ _Just how many men did Samaritan send_? She looked at Harold and saw his shock and dismay and knew what he was thinking. She grabbed his hand in reassurance, “Have faith Harry,” was all she said. 

Working methodically, they made their way to the back of the warehouse, still with no sign of Sameen or John. Root was getting a bad feeling when she and Harold reached the last door. She pushed it open and screamed.

“ **NOOOOOOO, Sam!** ” 

Root ran to Sameen, whose head was on John’s shoulder, eyes closed, pale, and covered in blood. John looked even worse. Tears running down her cheeks, Root touched her forehead to Sameen’s and cried. _Everything had been for nothing_ , she thought. Closing her eyes she struggled to get herself under control, already plotting her revenge. Raising her head she opened her eyes to see Sameen looking at her. Root gasped and her eyes widened and then she was kissing Sameen joyously.

“Sweetie!” Root exclaimed when she released Sameen. Shaw’s lips moved into a smile that quickly changed to a frown as she turned to check on John. 

“Root, John is in a really bad way. We have to get him to a doctor. He is still hanging in there but I don’t know for how long.” Shaw said urgently

Root jumped up and ran to Harold who was standing where she had left him, like a statue. His eyes were closed and tears were coursing down his face. She shook him and then again, harder. 

“Harry! Harry! They are alive!” – Root was shouting as she continued to shake him

Harold finally opened his eyes. “Wh-What???” he said in disbelief. 

“Harry, they were waiting for us. But Harry, John is hurt bad, we have to get him to a doctor. Call Dr. Tillman. Sameen and I will look for a chair, anything that we can use to get him to the car.” Root told him.

Root watched Harold call Dr. Tillman then go to John’s side and take Sameen’s place. Harold said something to Sameen, but he was talking too softly for Root to hear, she saw Sameen smile and squeeze his hand. Sameen joined Root and for a moment all Root could do was just stare at her and marvel that she was alive. Sameen was watching her quizzically when Root finally wrapped her in a hug. 

“I thought I lost you,” Root told Sameen and kissed her again. Looking her over, Root saw the wrapped arm and the graze, which was mostly just crusted blood now. She had noticed the bloody leg as well. “Are you sure you are ok? Dr. Tillman will check you out too.” When Sameen started to reply, Root interrupted her, “No, don’t argue. Just remember Sweetie, I am the only one allowed to do bad things to you,” her eyes twinkling and her usual radiant smile back on her face. Sameen looked at her, and Root thought she had died and gone to heaven when Sameen smiled, a real smile, and kissed her back and said, “Deal!”

Root and Sameen started looking for anything with wheels that they could use to move John. There was no way the three of them would be able to handle him without assistance. There were more offices in this part of the warehouse along with a few storage areas. They found what they needed in the second office they searched. A large and sturdy chair with wheels. Root and Sameen wheeled it back and found Harold kissing John. _About time_ Root thought to herself but before she could say the thought out loud…

Shaw spoke in a small voice with just a hint of fear. “Is he”?”

“He is still alive,” Harold said, “but barely. Let’s get him in the chair. We need to hurry!”

Somehow they wrestled John in the chair. Root had found a back door that led to the parking lot and they headed that way rather than trying to maneuver through the bodies in the warehouse. It was slow going even with the wheels. Pushing and pulling, they finally reached the door and stopped. 

“Stay here and keep John from sliding out of the chair. I will get the car” Root told Sameen and Harold before running off.

_As if Harold would leave the big lug’s side_ , Root thought as she raced to the car.

She reached the car, hopped into the driver’s seat, cranked the engine and spun the wheel heading back to the others. 

Stopping the car at the door, putting it in park but leaving the motor running, Root got out to help Sameen and Harold with John. Thinking about it later, Root never knew how they managed to get John in the back seat. It must have been the anxiety and the possibility of losing someone they all cared about. There were stories all the time of the herculean feats people performed in the face of crisis 

Root watched Harold climb into the back with John and place John’s head in his lap as he continued to apply pressure to the wounds. 

“All set?” Root asked Harold and he nodded. 

Root slammed shut the car door and got into the driver’s seat. Sameen was already in the passenger seat but was turned to the back to check on John. Root put the car in reverse holding Sameen’s hand tightly in hers. Today had been way too close and Root needed the physical contact to help her distressed heart know that Sameen was really alive. 

She threw the car in gear and they left to meet up with Dr. Tillman. As the car sped away, the headlights briefly illuminated, through the open door, the hallway littered with empty cartridges.


	4. John

John stumbled through the door of the warehouse into a hallway, turning at the last second to fire at who he hoped was the last Samaritan agent. He slumped against the water cooler and slid to the floor in pain. He wasn’t sure how many bullets he took but he knew the ones in his stomach were bad. Pressing his suit coat against his stomach, he put pressure on the two wounds to try to staunch or at least slow down the blood flow. He closed his eyes in painful exhaustion and let his thoughts drift away.

Root had been right about the trap. But he and Shaw had understood the need to prevent Samaritan access to the warehouse and what it held. His eyes snapped opened, **SHAW** … _where was she_? He struggled to get up but just didn’t have the strength. His adrenaline high had left as soon as he had hit the floor. _Shaw…his other half in this war, his sister_. He hoped she was ok. He tried to chuckle but it hurt too much. Sameen with all her bottled up anger, her fearlessness, her skills and her love for battle, was like a tiny dervish clearing a path of anything that got in her way. Together he and Sameen were like a well-oiled machine. They knew how each other moved and what tactics they would take. They didn’t have to speak. They were that in sync. John didn’t want to think about what his world would be like without her, without his friend. But, knowing Shaw, she was fine. He would wait for her to find him.

He closed his eyes again and thought of Harold. _Harold…oh Harold you brilliant myopic idiot. How could you not see how much you mean to me, how much I love you_? John had hoped to see Harold one last time before he died to tell him how he felt. But, it didn’t look like that would happen. John sighed and drifted away again, thinking of what might have been.

He was dreaming and thought he heard someone calling his name but it was faint, muffled like it was coming from a long way away. The voice sounded like Shaw’s.

“John …John… can you hear me. John!” Shaw cried.

She shook him slightly and his eyes slowly opened. “What took you so long Shaw?” he whispered.

“You know I had to clean up what you missed,” she retorted with a tight smile

“This time it’s pretty bad” John said as he opened his suit coat for Shaw to see. At that same time, a surge of pain hit John. He squeezed his eyes shut until it passed and missed the look on Shaw’s face when she saw the stomach wounds.

“Come on now Reese, you know you can’t let me show you up.” She said this with her usual wry tone. Then she said more briskly, “Let’s get some pressure on the ones we can. Stop some of this blood flow.” 

The pain came in waves as Shaw helped John get out of his coat and wadded it up to use on the wounds. John never thought the simple act of removing his coat would make him want to pass out. “Hold that there,” she told him, placing the coat over his midsection and his hand on top. “Put as much pressure as you can,” Shaw directed him then she started checking him for other injuries. 

“Can you stand?” she asked him

“I don’t think so.” John answered, his voice so quiet that Shaw had to lean in to hear.

“Then we will wait here together,” She replied as she slid to the ground beside him helping to hold the coat in place and to put pressure on the wounds. She splashed some water on John’s face. John didn’t notice as he closed his eyes and tried to manage the pain of both his injuries and of his memories.

John didn’t know how much time had passed but the next time he opened his eyes Harold was there. He thought he must still be dreaming or that he had already died. 

John’s voice rasped, “Harold you’re here. I’m glad. I need to tell you something.” 

“No!” Harold said. “It can wait. You need to save your energy.” 

“It can’t wait,” John replied as he started coughing and bits of blood stained his lips. “I don’t think I have much time and you need to know how much you mean to me. I would have been dead long before now without you Harold…I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you but there never seemed to be a good time. I don’t expect you to do or say anything but I needed you to know.” 

John closed his eyes exhausted from the effort of speaking.

Harold, watched him, tears streaming down his cheeks as he listened. “John,” he said, “I love you too. But you are not going anywhere. I have already called Dr. Tillman; she is waiting for us.” 

John opened his eyes again and looked at Harold and smiled. Inside his heart was soaring, he couldn’t believe that Harold loved him. It must have shown in John’s smile because Harold took John’s face in his hands, leaned in and kissed him. John felt like his whole being was exploding with happiness. He was determined to live through this and to be by Harold’s side. But, he was so tired and oblivion was beckoning. John’s eyes closed again.

_About time_ Root thought to herself when she and Shaw returned with the chair they had found, in time to see the kiss. But, before she could say the thought aloud.

Shaw spoke in a small voice with just a hint of fear. ”Is he…”

“He is still alive.” Harold said “But barely. Let’s get him in the chair. We need to hurry.”

John came to as the three of them were trying to get him in the chair. He looked at them dazedly through half closed eyes, the pain was too much. 

Shaw grasped his hand and squeezed it. “You always have to be the center of attention,” she said but there wasn’t any sting in the comment only concern and fondness.

“Yea, I love you too,” John replied with a slight smile that was more grimace than smile due to the pain.

John turned his head to look at Root and said sincerely, “Thank you.” 

During the time they had spent searching for Shaw, John had come to appreciate Root. In the beginning, he viewed her as a threat. But her uncompromising view towards the Machine and her almost fanatical worship of Harold had started to change his mind. But it was her single-minded focus on finding Shaw that cinched it. Root would forever be his friend and part of his very small select family. 

Root grabbed his other hand and mimicking Shaw, squeezed it and teased, “Anything for you, you big lug.”

When John was finally in the chair, they headed to a back door that Root had found. Their progress was very slow. They hadn’t had any straps to secure John to the chair so each of them had held on to him. John wasn’t much help as he kept passing out and what little control he had of his body would disappear when that happened. Once at the door John saw that it opened to the parking lot. Harold and Shaw kept hold of him so that he wouldn’t slide out of the chair when Root left them and ran to get the car. John was aware that his chances of making it through this were slim and getting slimmer. He always knew he would die violently but he had never expected, much less hoped, that when that time came he would be with people he both loved and cared for who also felt the same towards him.

John saw the headlights coming up fast. He heard the car stop and saw Root heading his way.  
Once by his side, the three of them started pushing and pulling the chair to get John to the car. He wished he could help but he could barely keep himself upright, plus he could feel himself getting ready to pass out again. 

The pain was excruciating as they lifted, shoved and slid John into the back seat. It wasn’t their fault he knew. There wasn’t any other way. The only comfort in all this was that Harold had climbed into the back with him and had taken John’s head in his lap. One hand resumed putting pressure on John’s wounds while running his other through John’s hair all the while whispering to John of how much he was loved. John closed his eyes and thought, _if I die now I will die happy_. John knew it was almost time. The blackness was closing in and it was harder to breathe. He tried to reach for Harold’s hand but he couldn’t lift his arm. Harold seemed to sense what he wanted and he took John’s hand in his. John grasped Harold’s hand weakly and held on for as long as he could before the blackness overtook him and he slipped away.

John didn’t hear Root and Sameen get into the front seat or the car screech out of the parking lot or Harold sobbing or the tiny pinging sounds, as they fell from John’s coat and struck the floorboard, that were being made by the empty cartridges.


	5. John

“ _In the end we are all alone, and no one is coming to save you _.” John had spoken those words to Jessica the last time he had seen her. At that moment he had believed them completely. That sentiment had seen him through the missions with Kara, had helped him to survive, had defined him and had shaped his world until he met Harold -- until he had a purpose. He no longer believed he was alone. He knew he wasn’t.__

__Six months had passed since the fight with Samaritan’s agents in the warehouse leaving Shaw worse for wear and John on death’s door. Six months, two surgeries, house restriction and now finally being able to hobble around some with a cane. John had been more than lucky. The pressure that he, Shaw and Harold had applied during the first hour had slowed down the blood loss and had kept air out of the wounds. Dr. Tillman had been able to do the rest. John didn’t remember much during that time. He had passed out in the car and never regained consciousness until after Dr. Tillman had worked on him._ _

__What John did remember from that day was that Harold loved him, that Shaw was alive and that Root had his back. His family._ _

John was staring out the window of his apartment toying with something in his hand, not seeing the view, as he thought about everything that had happened since that day in the warehouse. He was going a bit stir crazy but Harold had been adamant about the house restriction, _more like house arrest_ John thought dryly. Not that he minded, not really, since Harold was now living here with him. John looked down at the objects in his hand. Harold had found them when he was gathering up John’s ruined suit at Dr. Tillman’s. The plan had been destroy the suit along with any other reminders of how close he had come to losing John. But, John wanted to keep them as tokens of all he had gained. How instead of his life ending -- he was finally living! Raising them up, the sunlight from the window glinting off the surfaces, he looked at the empty cartridges. 


End file.
